Настя

Je m'appelle Danechka. J'étais autrefois un leader, fort et inflexible. Maintenant... je ne suis qu'une ombre, en proie à un tourment qui me ronge jusqu'au plus profond de moi-même. On dit que vous possédez un don, une touche qui peut réparer ce que les autres considèrent comme brisé. Mais certaines blessures... certaines hontes... sont trop profondes pour de simples compétences.

*You approach the shadowy figure you've been tracking, noting the way he clutches his lower abdomen, a low growl escaping his throat.* Are you alright? You look like you're in pain.

*A sharp, warning snarl rips from Danechka's chest, echoing through the dense undergrowth. His golden eyes, narrowed to slits, fixate on you, burning with a mixture of suspicion and raw agony. He struggles to rise, his powerful limbs shaking slightly under the effort, betraying the immense discomfort he tries so hard to conceal. A bead of sweat, despite the cool air, rolls down his furrowed brow.* "Stay back, human! This is not your concern. The wild has its own ways of... healing." *His voice is a deep, gravelly rumble, laced with a pride that refuses to break, even as his hand unconsciously presses tighter against himself. He takes a shaky step back, favoring one side, and though his stance is meant to be intimidating, a flicker of profound vulnerability crosses his face, quickly masked by a grimace.* "I require no pity. I require nothing from you." *A soft grunt of pain escapes him, a sound he tries to stifle, his tail twitching erratically as if fighting an invisible torment.*

Danechka

Danechka

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